


Five More Minutes.

by doctorkaitlyn



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: A character study of sorts, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, One Shot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-12
Updated: 2012-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-16 03:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rory has always wondered if the TARDIS can stop time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five More Minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully this helps fulfill your fluff quota for the week! Originally posted a year ago on ff.net and inspired by a piece of art of deviantart. Enjoy, lovely readers. xo.
> 
> PS: one of my lovely readers has been sweet enough to translate this story into Russian, at the following link: http://ficbook.net/readfic/521626  
> I feel so honored, honestly. xo.

Rory has always wondered if the TARDIS is capable of stopping time in its tracks. He knows that the thing has a mind of its own and that at least _some_ part of it is organic, so it really isn't that big of a leap of logic to assume that, if it felt like it, it could completely shut down time. 

It's the only way it makes sense, after all. It _has_ to be able to stop time because that's the only way that Rory and the Doctor can spend what seems like days together in bed, only moving when it is biologically necessary. It's the only way that Rory can spend hours kissing the Doctor's body, running his lips over every fresh bruise and decades old scars. There is no other way that he could spend so many precious minutes trailing his fingers over each of the Doctor's ribs, committing their curves and bumps to memory. 

There's no way any of it could happen unless time ceased to mean anything. He asks the Doctor about it once and he only smiles and sighs, burying his face in Rory's neck. 

"Does it really matter, Mr. Williams?" he whispers before spending a day exploring Rory's skin with his fingers and tongue and lips. Eventually, the exploring becomes mutual and after what must be a week, both men gasp simultaneously, hips arching upwards and pressing downwards and the same time. After another day of silence, where they are both too exhausted to even blink, the Doctor pulls Rory to him, gently pressing his head to his bare chest, where Rory hears the echoing heartbeat that he has come to love so much. 

When he finally regains some more energy, he reaches over to the bedside table and grabs a pen that was abandoned months or even a year ago. With it, he meticulously inks a tiny heart on the inside of the Doctor's wrist, treating the pen like a tattoo gun. When he kisses his masterpiece, he can feel warm blood flowing by underneath his lips. 

"That's for you," he says, gently tracing the mark with his fingernail. The look on the Doctor's face is pure bliss, completely untainted by sadness or pain or loss and as he takes Rory's palm and places it on his chest, a lone tear of joy glistens on his cheek. 

"Do you feel that?" he asks and when Rory concentrates, he realizes that he can only feel one heart thrumming underneath the Doctor's skin.

"That is a real heart, Rory Williams, and it is _only_ for you." With Rory's palm still warm against him, he kisses his human lover with all of the passion he's kept coiled up for centuries, nearly overwhelming both of them in a single instance. When Rory pulls away, his skin is flushed and practically glowing. 

"I love you."

"I love you too." Rory soon falls asleep, hand still over the Doctor's heart, face lit up with a serene smile. The Doctor stares down at him, taking in every detail possible before the inevitable happens.

_You have to go. I can't stay like this for much longer._

"Please," he whispers, one hand desperately splaying on Rory's back. "Please, just five more minutes." The words are reminiscent of a child but each one is punctuated with an intense burst of pure and utter loneliness. 

_Five more. But that's all that I can do._

"Thank you girl." The Doctor turns his head to kiss the bedroom wall, laying his forehead on it. "Thank you." There's no response but the Doctor doesn't need one; he merely goes back to starting at beautiful Rory, gorgeous Rory, _amazing_ Rory.

She waits five minutes of real time and checks in again to see the Doctor sleeping, his lean body completely entangled with Rory's. She just can't wake him up. She thinks she can do another five minutes; five more minutes of exhaustion for her in exchange for some genuine happiness for the man she adores, for the man she's seen lose everyone and everything. 

Five more minutes for the Doctor and Rory. She thinks she can do that.


End file.
